User blog:Lathagarr Stormgale of Tronn/Arena

The weasel rose to her paws as the grating sound of the gate to the cell corridor reached her ears and several guards entered the hallway to the cells. A large rat opened her cell door and grabbed her wrist roughly and shoved her into the tight corridor.

"Wakey, wakey, my beauties!" called the stoat Prisonkeeper.

Vermillion blinked at the flickering light from the torches ensconced along the wall as they were led into the armory. Soon she was standing in front of Gallius, the Weapons Master. She made her choice quickly, two lightweight sabers before she entered the last room before the Arena. She sat down to wait for the rest of them. They were a motley band, foxes, stoats, ferrets, rats, weasels like herself. All condemned criminals. This was their last chance to pardon or their execution. She saw Mizgra, a fox whose chosen weapons were a trident and net. Him she knew slightly and another, a female stoat wielding a brace of daggers and a thin sword. The stoat was called Amrava, she remembered. Several more filed in with their various chosen weapons, a dizzying array of different kinds of spears, swords, tridents, nets, clubs, maces, axes and range weapons.

The weasel stood up and looked through the grated door, across the Arena to the identical gate on the other side. She watched as it was opened and several woodlanders entered the Arena. Three mice, two hares, several squirrels, two doormice, a brawny otter and a huge badger stood blinking in the sunlight. Vermillion shuddered at the size of the badger standing at the head of them.